


somewhere in the long run

by guiltylights



Category: K-On!
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5684833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guiltylights/pseuds/guiltylights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve years of love, and the art of letting it go. –– Mio/Ritsu, kind of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	somewhere in the long run

**Author's Note:**

> I… have absolutely no idea. Or absolutely any excuse, really. 
> 
> I don’t even ship it THAT much? It’s like one of those pairings where I don’t mind them being friends, but I don’t mind them dating, either. It’s like this weird somewhere-in-the-middle. 
> 
> Well, whatever.

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

            They’re twenty-two, and Mio is getting married. 

            They’re twenty-two, and Mio is getting _married._

            Ritsu thinks she might be violently sick.

            She was sitting inside a (ridiculously oversized, for what it’s worth) dressing room, perched on some pale pink puffy pouffe, jiggling her leg up and down as she waited for Mio to finish getting dressed. But Mio was taking forever, and Ritsu was just about going mad with impatience.

(And going mad with some other emotion as well, but Ritsu takes a hold of _those_ and pushes them down, down, down; she could deal with them later, when she was away from all of this and not required to play bridesmaid to Mio’s bride. She could deal with all of them later, just not _now._ )

            She tugs at her dress; Ritsu is still not comfortable with dresses, even at this age, and wearing one as girly and pale and pastel as _this_ felt foreign and strange. But it was Mio’s wedding day and today, today was important to Mio so just for today, Ritsu obliges. Ritsu does not complain.

            “Ritsu?” Mio’s voice comes out from behind the changing room door, scared and high and unsure and afraid of herself, and Ritsu’s heart clenches. 

            “I’m here, Mio!” She calls out, trying her hardest to sound happy.

            Long hands push opens the doors, and then Mio in standing in front of her pink-cheeked and lovely in off-shoulder satin and long-veiled lace, creamy white pearls strung long around her neck, and Ritsu nearly chokes from lack of air.

            “H-how do I look?” Mio asks, hesitant, nervous, tipping her head forward to hide her blush, long hair a perfect smooth slick of black falling in front of her face. Ritsu has to physically clench her hands to restrain herself from reaching forward and running her fingers through the soft dark strands.

            “Totally and completely hideous, Mio,” she says airily, instead, waving her hands flippantly in the air and grinning out cheekily from the corner of her mouth. “Haven’t I told you before, Mio, white is so not your colour, you’d look a lot better in orange instead–“

            The air was punctuated later with a loud yelp as Mio’s fist came raining down on Ritsu’s head; some things still never change.

            “Be serious, Ritsu!” Mio cried, stamping her feet as Ritsu tried valiantly to recover from the throbbing pain at the back of her head. (Seriously, for someone so timid and scared, Mio’s hits packed a _punch._ ) “This isn’t the time for joking around! It’s the big day, I’m– I’m–“

            And it’s here Ritsu straightens up and watches as Mio draws into herself, fingers clutching at her elbows as her voice grows gentler and her expression softer and sweeter, “I’m getting _married._ ”  

             Ritsu watches as Mio hugs herself in front of her, soft and in love and beautiful with her dress gathering on her frame like starlight, and does not say a single word.

            “…I’m scared, Ritsu,” Mio says, after an immeasurable long time, looking up with eyes wide and fearful but full of fragile hope, and god, she was lovely, she was lovely, lovely, lovely and Ritsu’s heart clenches in her chest tight like a burn and Ritsu doesn’t remember how to fucking _breathe._  

             “What if I’m making a big mistake? What if he doesn’t love me? What if–“ And here Mio drops her head, and looks as if she was about to cry.

            “What if everything goes wrong?”

            Ritsu swallows thickly, and steps forward to put her hands on Mio’s pale exposed shoulders. “Hey, hey Mio, look at me,” she says tenderly.

            Mio looks up from under long dark bangs, grey eyes wide and shining and brilliant like crystals glinting under moonlight, and the force of the current reality hit Ritsu in the stomach like a physical blow.

            Oh god, she was _so_ not ready for this.

            But she put her hands on Mio’s shoulders, anyways.

            “Hey, listen to me, Mio, okay? You look pretty. You look really, really pretty; in fact you look absolutely beautiful.” Ritsu smiles up at Mio, at this; even after seven years, Ritsu was still shorter than Mio, and oh, god, it hurt to look at her like this.

             “Takashi is a very lucky man, and you love him, and he loves you, and you two are going to get married today and live in a nice house and get a lot of adorable children and live happily ever after.

             “Happily ever after, just like all your fairytale stories.” Ritsu brushes her hand past the white lace of Mio’s veil only once, and lets go.  

            Ritsu steps back, and smiles encouragingly at Mio. “Things are gonna be okay, I’m promise.”

            Ritsu looks away as Mio’s face eases up, relief crawling up in the corner of her eyes, and reaches over to pluck Mio’s bouquet of white roses off the dressing room table.

             Ritsu hands them over to Mio, and catches a sight of Mio’s fingers as she does; they were rough and scarred and callused at the palms, thick-skinned at the fingertips where they had pressed down on steel strings. Rough fingers. Musician’s fingers.

             Bassist’s fingers, from their time together as HTT back in their high school days as their school’s Light Music Club, and Ritsu can still hear the steady thrum of the bass echoing alongside her crashing drumbeats is she tries hard enough.

             But HTT doesn’t really play together, these days, and Ritsu mostly plays the drums alone now.

              “Thanks, Ritsu,” Mio whispers, and her grey eyes shine with so much love and happiness and _gratitude_ that Ritsu had to physically restrain herself from _retching_ in her mouth _._

              She grins bright at Mio, instead, to hide the trembling tucked into the corner of her mouth, and runs ahead.

             “Always, Mio. Now c’mon, let’s go! Your soon-to-be husband awaits!”

             And at this Ritsu pauses, spins around, and waggles her eyebrows, “and after the reception, what happens _after_ …”  

              She laughs outright at Mio’s splutters and her bright-red face, and does not think of things like _don’t do this_ or _I love you_ or _you’re so goddamn beautiful it hurts_ or even _I’m not sure if I can just continue being your friend after this, anymore._

             Because today she was bridesmaid to Mio’s bride and she can’t deal with these emotions right now; she’ll deal with them when the reception was over and when she could curl up in her apartment on her bed and not sleep for the entire night, whatever, any time after this, just not _now, not now, not NOW._

             Ritsu laughs at Mio in her face, and does not think of anything.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

            Mio’s wedding goes spectacularly well. Everybody was present, all her family and friends and her loved ones, and of course, all of HTT. They were all smiling and crowding around Mio and her now-husband, going _congratulations_ and _I wish you two happiness_ and _I have never seen such a beautiful couple._

            Mio was blushing and smiling, playing the part of the blissful bride perfectly in the crook of her husband’s arm, and Ritsu drinks herself to fucking _oblivion_ under the wedding buffet table.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

            Over the next few years, Ritsu and Mio grow up.

            Mio grows older and becomes a housewife and lives in a nice house and every morning kisses her husband goodbye as he goes off for work. Her hair is pulled up into a half-bun all the time, these days, and her hands are rough from all the housework she’s done now instead of her bass.

             Ritsu visits her only when her husband has left for work, and she does not look at the couple photographs littering Mio’s house in every corner when she does. The two of them sit down in the kitchen together for a cup of tea – and sometimes, some snacks or sweets – and simply talk about life.

             Ritsu and Mio were twenty-seven, and things haven’t really changed, between them.

             “You know, Ritsu, you should really consider getting yourself a boyfriend,” Mio says, looking at Ritsu over the rim of her teacup as she takes a sip and sets it calmly back down on the table. She folds her hands together back on the tabletop and leans forward to look Ritsu straight in the eye.

             Ritsu, aged twenty-seven and dressed in an army green coat and blue jeans, shrugs awkwardly and scratches the back of head.

             “Dunno, Mio,” Ritsu says, avoiding Mio’s eyes, “I’m just not interested in getting attached, right now.”

             And Ritsu thinks _because for the past few years it’s been you and it’s only been you and it’s been you since we were sixteen and in high school and god, I love you, I really do but you’re married with a loving husband and a nice life now and really, there’s no helping it anymore, is there?_

             Ritsu is twenty-seven and still in fucking love with Mio and wow, this was so incredibly _sucky._

            Mio sighs loudly at her. “Are you _ever_ going to get married, Ritsu? Or even get a boyfriend? At this rate,” and Mio’s lips suddenly quirk up into a mischievous and cheeky grin, “you’re gonna end up growing old and alone and unhappy!”

            Ritsu gasped dramatically. “Mio! How dare you!”

            But Mio was laughing hard and clutching at her stomach from the other end of the table, and Ritsu wasn’t really offended, not really.

              Ritsu crosses her arms and watches with a small smile as Mio’s hair falls around her face, silky dark ribbons like streamers dropping down her shoulders, and just for a moment both Mio and Ritsu were sixteen and in high school again, messing around in the club room whilst waiting for the others to arrive.

             Ritsu suddenly misses those days with a burning.

             But Mio stops laughing, and proceeds to pull all her hair back up into a half-bun, and Ritsu looks away.

             “How has your life been though, recently?” Mio asks. Ritsu shrugs.

             “Eh, same old, same old, you know me.”

             There was enough to pay the bills to Ritsu’s shitty apartment and to feed herself so that she wouldn’t die from starvation, and frankly that counted as a success in Ritsu’s books. There was enough for Ritsu to get by, and for Ritsu, that was enough. 

            Mio shakes her head. “You still have such a disorganized lifestyle. I guess some things never change.”

Mio smiles at Ritsu gentle out of the corner of her mouth, and sips her tea. Her throat was pale like water in the quiet afternoon sunlight, and Ritsu loved her desperately. 

_Yeah, I guess some things never change._

              “Yeah.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

            “Ritsu, I think I’m pregnant,” Mio says, eyes shining one afternoon, hands gripping around a teacup to hide the tremble of excitement in her fingers.

            Ritsu felt as if her bones had been sucked dry. “You’re what?”

            “Pregnant,” Mio repeats, and one of her hands drops down to tenderly rest on her abdomen. “With a baby.”

            Ritsu’s eyes follow the line of movement down to beyond the table, before Mio’s hand dropped out of sight. Ritsu imagines a tiny life breathing quietly in Mio’s womb; Mio’s heart thumping with love in time to its own, and the room suddenly spins around on its axis.

            “I– I have to go.” Ritsu stands up abruptly, knocking at the table in her haste. Her teacup rattles in its saucer, the liquid untouched, and Ritsu feels like her lungs are filled with water.

            She’s gasping, and the ticking of the clock on the wall is suddenly too loud and ringing in her ears.

            “Ritsu? Ritsu!” And Mio is standing up and grabbing at Ritsu in her frantic haste, checking her all over, “Ritsu, are you okay? What’s wrong, what’s happening? _Ritsu!_ ”

            Ritsu laughs, because this was just ridiculous, this was just goddamned _ridiculous,_ and _wow, shit, are you kidding with me right now._

             “I’m– I’m okay,” she manages to get out, pushing away Mio’s hands, Mio’s hands, Mio’s callused hands. “I’m okay, I just– I have to go.”

             “Ritsu? Ritsu!”

             Ritsu bolts for the door; at the last minute, she turns back and sees Mio just a few steps away from her, hand out-stretched and reaching for her arm, concern etched into her features and shining in her clear grey eyes. Her hair was still up in a half-bun, and she still has an apron around her waist.

             Ritsu only blinks once, twice, before turning around to leave.

             “I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen,” she says, without thinking, and Ritsu doesn’t turn around to see Mio falter at the steps with her eyes widening in shock before she slams the door.

             Ritsu runs away, and wills herself not to turn back.  

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

            Ritsu doesn’t visit Mio, for a while.

            She convinces herself that it’s better this way.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

            A phone rings.

            _Click._

            “ _Ritsu? Um, hey, it’s Mio. You haven’t been coming around recently and, um, I’m just worried about you. Are you okay? Ritsu?”_

…

            …

            …

_“Are– Are we still friends?”_

Silence.

_“… Call back soon, okay?”_

_Click._

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

            “Hey Mio?” Ritsu says into the receiver at 3am in the morning, drunk out of her mind and hands sore from playing the drums for four hours straight before. “I think I’m still in love with you.”

            The person on the other end hangs up; the dial tone in Ritsu’s ear makes her laugh until she cries.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

            Two months afterwards, Ritsu was sitting in the park, on the swing set. It was nighttime, and the sky was dark save for the stars and the yellow glow of the streetlights beyond.

Ritsu looks upwards, small rough hands gripped around the steel swing chains, and closed her eyes.

            “Ritsu?”

            Ritsu’s eyes snapped open, and she twisted her head around so fast she almost gave herself a crick in the neck. Mio stood there, with a half-awkward smile on her face and her hands twisted behind her back.

            The air hummed quietly in the night, and Ritsu stared at Mio’s feet, fighting every urge within her to run away. 

            “…How have you been?” Mio asked, quietly, and she stepped forward to sit down on the swing next to Ritsu, staring up at the dark night sky. Ritsu glances at her out from the corner of her eyes; Mio’s hands curled around the steel swing chains perfectly, long pale fingers wrapped around them like a kiss.

            Ritsu looks back down.

            “Mm, okay, I guess,” she mutters, kicking at the ground with the scuff of her shoes, “nothing’s really changed.”

            _Except that it has, it has, it has._

            Mio tipped her head forward; her hair was let down, tonight, and so long that it nearly brushed the ground as Mio leaned forwards. She was tall and pale and lovely, and Ritsu hates herself.

            “…The baby’s coming along, huh,” Ritsu says, after a long while, gesturing towards Mio’s stomach with one hand. The soft swell around the abdomen wasn’t too noticeable yet, but Ritsu knows that in a few months, it will be. 

            Mio flushes. “Um, yeah,” she says, a small smile lighting up her features, and Ritsu ignores the way her heart squeezed at the sight. But then Mio’s smile fades, and she looks at Ritsu with such an awkward and open _sincerity_ that Ritsu couldn’t look away.

            “I’m sorry.” 

            Ritsu freezes, and can’t quite look Mio in the eye. “What?”

            “I’m sorry, Ritsu. I never realised.” Mio said sincerely; her gray eyes were as bright as the stars overhead in the dark. “I didn’t understand how much pain I might’ve put you through. 

             “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you, and,” Mio looks down again, “I’m sorry.”

            The rejection hangs loud in the air between them, and Ritsu is not surprised.

            Still, she bends her head forward, and tries her hardest not to cry.

            “If you– If you don’t want to be friends anymore after this, I’ll understand.” Mio’s hands tightened around the steel chains, but her voice was laced with conviction. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry about this, I really am. You’re my best friend Ritsu; I’ve never wanted to hurt you.”

             Ritsu looks at Mio then, looks at her properly in the dark. In the starlight she was beautiful and ethereal with moonlight dripping down her high cheekbones and pale shoulders and the long expanse of her hair, and Ritsu sees the timing of their histories gathering in the spaces between them like a memory.

            In the backlit glow of the streetlamps Ritsu closes her eyes and feels the pain like a sharp and clean-cut feeling at the back of her eyelids. It hurt, but it was a good hurt, and Ritsu thinks it might be okay.  

            “Don’t be ridiculous, Mio,” she says finally, grinning bright and sharp at Mio and watching Mio’s face ease up in happiness and relief – there were lines at the corners of Mio’s eyes where there didn’t use to be; the both of them have grown so old, without them noticing, and life just goes on, that way.

             So Ritsu looks Mio straight in the eyes, and promises. 

             “I’m always going to be here.” She grins.

            _Because before I loved you at sixteen I was your friend, I was your friend first and foremost since the age of five and even now at the age of nearly twenty-eight that is never going to change, that is never going to change._

_Even if it takes me time to get over you._

Mio and Ritsu grin at each other, and Ritsu was still in love with Mio; but Ritsu was Mio’s best friend, and that was the most important thing, and while Ritsu knows it’s going to take some time to get rid of the squeezing inside of her chest, she’ll survive. She’ll manage.

             The both of them turn their heads towards the sky, and taste the fresh night air on their tongue. 

             “We should play together again, sometimes,” Ritsu says, stretching her fingers out towards the sky. “I haven’t heard you play bass in a long, long while.”

             Mio smiles. 

            “Okay,” Mio said. “Okay.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

**Author's Note:**

> So I accidentally wrote a near three thousand words fic in one day about crushes and lesbians? Oops. 
> 
> I am so completely not sorry though. But after this I need to get back to my proper schoolwork, my god. 
> 
> Please rate and review!


End file.
